


20 dollars hairdye

by Underthisrain



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Hair Dyeing, M/M, it's my headcanon that Patrick mumbles words so we don't realise how bad some of pete's lyrics are, mostly crack though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underthisrain/pseuds/Underthisrain
Summary: ' Trick ! I found some bleach ! 'Uh-oh. This wasn’t good. At all. Patrick didn’t need a repeat of the disaster that was Pink haired Pete. I mean, most of Pete’s hair decisions were bad to some extend, Patrick thought.OS in which Drunk Pete makes bad decision and Patrick is here to pick up the pieces
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 3





	20 dollars hairdye

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to expose my headcanon to the world, and here's a crackfic for it.

Patrick was exhausted. He had been trying to record the vocals for that new song for hours, but Pete and their producer never seem to be satisfied. 

‘ ‘Trick, please, you need to articulate. I know you enjoy all the memes about misheard lyrics but our message will never come through if people cannot understand the lyrics.’ Pete told him through the loudspeaker. 

Patrick sighed. He knew that his articulation wasn’t his forte, and he was really trying to get better on that front. But truth was, sometimes this was intentional. Pete was really good with words, and Patrick was honoured to be the one to bring them to life; but sometimes, the words didn’t make any sense. At all. And everyone was too scared of hurting Pete's feeling to tell him. The bassist was known to have a hard time taking on constructive criticism and feedback, especially when it concerned his lyrics. Patrick understood. Pete’s lyrics were him laying his soul and heart bare on paper and it was always tangled in feelings and emotions. The blond couldn’t even start to imagine how hard it must be to be told that the words weren’t good enough. So instead he had developed his own trick in order to protect Pete from the world : make the words incomprehensible. The issue was trying to find an excuse when Pete was the one to tell him to articulate. Truth was, since the moment he met Pete, he felt the need to protect him. His mind was too beautiful, and his words went straight to his soul. He loved that even though the bassist always seemed to feel too much, he was always able to turn it into art. After years of being so close, the fascination Patrick had towards his band member’s mind seemed to also have evolved to physical attraction, and this had been when the blond realised he was doomed.

‘I’ll try but can’t promise anything’ He signalled to them to start the backing track and gave it another try. He focused on making some words clearer, but leaving the rest as it was. This seemed to satisfy both the band and producer and just like that, their recording session finally came to an end for the day.

‘Andy, Joe and I are going to the bar down the road for a few drinks, care to join us ?’ Pete seemed very hopeful but Patrick declined, reminding them that they have a photo-shoot verrrryyy early the next day and that this might not be the best idea. ‘C’mon it’s only 7pm, it’s just one drink, nothing to crazy’  
‘ I know you guys well enough to know that with you guys it’s NEVER just the one drink’ Patrick’s tone was a bit more accusative than he wanted it to be, and shame and hurt flashed on Pete’s face for a split second. Before Patrick could correct himself, the bassist just let out a small ‘okay then’ before walking away.  
Patrick hated knowing he was the one hurting Pete’s feeling but he knew better than to go after him.  
Patrick went straight home, made himself some food ,watched some TV and got himself to bed by 10pm. He had to admit : for a rockstar, his lifestyle was not that rock’n’roll. He texted the rest of the band to remind them of the photo-shoot the next morning and turned off the light.  
He was fast asleep when the vibration of his phone woke him up. He opened his eyes with great difficulty, groaning and mentally swearing to whomever dared to wake him up in the middle of the night. He grabbed his phone and stared at the screen with one eye closed, half blinded by the light it produced. His first reflex was to check the time. 2:03am. Hellll nooo whatever it was, surely that could wait until the actual morning.  
As he was about to put his phone back on the bedside table and fall back into morpheus’ arm, his phone vibrated once more. He stared at the screen, where Pete’s name appeared in big letters. He stared at the object for a second, confused as to why the bassist would call him so… late? Early? Whichever. The phone stopped ringing and this was when Patrick noticed all the notifications. 15 new text messages and 8 missed calls. Damn, this could NOT be good. Sighing, he sat up, opened the eye that was still closed to protect him from the light and propped himself against the headboard, finally admitting defeat. The chances of him going back to sleep were close to none.

He opened his text messages first.

Pete 10:39  
Triiiick, my dude, you should sooo join us

Pete 11:44  
Hone be4 nidnight, see how reasonakle I aM!

If the typos were any indication, this meant Pete definitely had more than just a few drinks. The fact that Pete was drunk-texting him was not surprising in itself : he always did and acted like nothing happened the next day. It was just a thing Pete did and Patrick never really questioned it. He sighed, wondering what shit drunk Pete would text him this time.

Pete 12:32  
Trick ! I found some bleach ! imma look sooooo gooof dor the shoot toorrow

Uh-oh. This wasn’t good. At all. Patrick didn’t need a repeat of the disaster that was Pink haired Pete. I mean, most of Pete’s hair decisions were bad to some extend, Patrick thought. But he didn’t need the stress of picking up the pieces of his band member when their manager and agent were going to yell at him for doing some stupid shit without consulting them first. This industry could be very controlling and Pete dying or cutting his hair was his own way of rebelling against that and keeping the small amount of control he had left on his own life, Patrick theorised. He shook his head and went back to the drunk texts.

Pete 12:47  
It burrns, is it supposef to burn?

Pete 12:52  
Need 2 rins, it burns 2 much

Pete 01:03  
was a baddddd idea

Pete 01:13  
Trick, help

This text came with a picture of Pete’s hair, mostly a disgusting shade of orange with some brown patches. Yep, this was bad. 

Pete 01:20  
Trick?

Pete 01:27  
Pick uuuuupppp

Pete 01:34  
Patrick, they gon killl me, u nneed 2 help pls

Pete 01:48  
MayB I should bleech again

Pete 01:56  
Or mayb shave my hwad

Patrick panicked at that last text and started typing a reply as quick as he could.

Patrick 02:05  
Don’t do that, bad idea.

Pete 02:05  
PATRICKkkkk!

Patrick 02:06  
I’m coming over, don’t do anything stupid.

Patrick sighed, this was not how he expected to finish his night, but drunk Pete had the bad habit of needing to be babysited and Patrick had the bad habit of always agreeing. It was one of those thing that was just theirs, and as much as he hated being awoken in the middle of the night by a man child that needed to be taken care of, but he also loved that Pete trusted him enough to let him see him so vulnerable. He once tried to ask Joe and Andy if Pete was pulling these kind of things with them too, but neither of them seemed to know what he was talking about and Patrick had smiled, finding comfort in knowing he had this privileged relationship with the bassist. He shook his head, as if to get rid of that last thought. He sounded like one of these teenage groupies that was crushing on Pete. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, he really shouldn’t sound so desperate.

The blond got out of bed, put on some trousers and a t-shirt, grabbed his keys and started driving toward the bassist’s house. He made sure to stop at Walmart on his way, picking up a couple of boxes of black hair dye. He stared at the red box dye for a second but decided against it, flashback of Pete’s emo black and red hair phase still haunting his nightmares.

He parked in front of the house, and went through the front door without even bothering to knock. The bassist had a bad habit of keeping his front door unlocked for some reason. As soon as he passed the threshold, an orange flash came rushing in his direction and before he had the time to do anything, Pete was hugging him way too tight for it to be comfortable. The first thing that hit him was the stinging smell of bleach and ammonia coming off of the now orange haired man. The second was the strong smell of whiskey on his breath. Pete finally let him go and thanked him for coming to his rescue. As if he was a damsel in distress. Patrick laughed at that thought, it wasn’t too far off to be honest.

Pete offered him a drink and Patrick refused, reminding him of the time and where they had to be in the morning. He kind of felt like the group’s mom sometimes, always having to keep Pete and the others in check. Sometimes Andy was also on his side, as honorary dad for the group, but in a more fun way. Patrick kinda wished he would be able to let go and be stupid sometimes too, but he was too shy and responsible. He kind of hated this side of himself which was always putting him on such good behaviour. But since he met Pete and the guys, he worked hard on getting better at letting go. 

Pete poured him a drink anyways, completely ignoring his answer, and shoved it in Patrick’s hand, taking away the grocery bag he was holding. 

‘ Oh, what have you got there?’ asked Pete, as excited as a kid on Christmas day.  
‘Just some black dye’ answered Patrick while pulling a face after smelling his drink. Pure whiskey, Not sure he was ready to drink that just after waking up.  
‘You coulda picked some fuuuun colours. Black is boring’ Pete pulled a disappointed face. Patrick took a sip from his glass. Maybe he would need this after all. ‘You look good in black, now shut up and let’s fix this’ 

He pushed the bassist into the corridor and all the way to the bathroom, sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and took a minute to contemplate how bad the situation was. Not only Pete’s hair was patchy as hell and 5 gradient shades going from orange to brown but half the hair was fried. This was gonna take a miracle to save. Patrick took another sip of his drink, for motivation. He took a look at the man in front of him. It kinda suited him though in a weird, abstract way. He had to admit that there probably wasn’t much that Pete wouldn’t suit. But he was biased. 

‘Take your top off.’

‘Hmm, trying to get me naked Mr Stump?’ Pete Joked.  
‘It’s so you don’t get dye on your t-shirt.’ Patrick finished his drink. He was going to need all the liquid courage he could if he was going to deal with drunk and flirty Pete. ‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back’

Patrick went hunting for the bottle of whiskey. He knew this wasn’t reasonable at all but as mentioned, he needed to work on being more relaxed, and also, there was no way he could deal with this sober. A quick thought about how dying Pete’s hair while drunk could be a catastrophe passed through his mind but he dismissed it; sure he could manage. Plus it’s wasn’t as if he was planning on getting drunk. It was just a drink or two to give him the patience to deal with Pete behaving like a 10 years old. When he came back to the bathroom with the bottle of whiskey, he found Pete, only in his boxer, sitting obediently on the edge of the bathtub, clothes laying in a messy pile on the floor.

‘I only said to take off the top.’ Pete shrugged, advising it was more comfortable this way. Patrick refilled his drink, making sure not to offer one to the bassist, who clearly had enough. Pete did not let that happened though, and groaned to signal he too wanted some.  
‘I think you had enough don’t you think ?’ Pete shook his head in disapproval and snatched Patrick’s drink to steal a sip. The blond let it happened, defeated. He took all of the boxes out the bag and started to mix all the ingredients. He didn’t really know what he was doing but after a quick glance at the never ending booklet of instruction, he decided to just improvise and trust his guts.

‘Now, I know it’s hard for you but please stay still so we don’t make more of a mess’  
‘Yes sir’ Patrick dipped the tint brush in the pot and decided to just go for it. To his surprise Pete managed to stay pretty much immobile for most of it, only moving to drink. They both had given up on using a glass and were just taking swings out of the bottle at regular interval. Every time he took a sip, Patrick noticed, Pete had the habit of licking his lips, making Patrick’s trousers tighter and more uncomfortable. His now hazed mind trailed off to wonder how the whiskey would taste on the bassist lips giving him the urge to just kiss them to find out. Pete’s semi nakedness wasn’t making it any easier. Patrick scratched his throat, trying to re focus on the task at hand: saving Pete’s hair without fucking it up even more. He was mostly done and -not to jinx it but - so far, so good. That’s about the time Pete started to get really restless. 

‘Stop moving’ Patrick snapped, while manhandling the bassist’s head to put it in the right position.  
‘So bossy....  
‘Sorry, I just really wan-’  
‘Don’t apologise, I like that’ Pete licked his lips once again, and Patrick could have sworn that this was on purpose. He could not deal with flirty Pete right now. Hell no. The surprised made him spill some dye on the floor. Shit. He grabbed some toilet roll nearby and kneeled to clean it up. Once done, he lifted his head up, only to realise that he was right between Pete’s leg, face to face with the bulge in his boxers, and that the bassist seemed really happy about that. He tried to get back up, but before he could comprehend what was happening, Pete grabbed him and pressed his lips against his. It was messy, it was awkward, with too much teeth and not enough tongue, but it made Patrick so happy. He took a step back, trying to regain his balance as he was still half kneeled on the floor. Before he could prop himself back up, Pete pushed him back on the floor and sat down above him. In no time, his mouth was back on his, kissing his lips hard and rushed, as if he was not ever going to be allowed to kiss them again. Patrick leaned into the kiss, licking the bassist’s lips, demanding access to his tongue. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and something about it was so intoxicating. Patrick’s hand went to Pete’s neck, pushing him closer to him, needing more contact, and Pete obliged. The blond’s hands moved to Pete’s hair looking for something to hold onto. Shit. He regretted that decision instantly. The dye. The godamm dye. Pete grabbed his hands and pinned them above him, not caring a second about the dye or anything else but the blond. He was right : fuck the dye. Patrick moved his hips, grinding against the bassist, suddenly so aware of how clothed he was. Pete must have read his thoughts, as he released the hands still pinned above Patrick’s head in order to try and get the blond out of his shirt, which found itself on the floor, next to Pete’s in seconds. Both of their hands started exploring each other’s body, leaving trails of black and handprints everywhere. Their little making out session continued until Patrick started coughing violently.

‘Shit I’ve got some dye in my mouth’

Way to go Stump, he thought to himself. Pete handled him the bottle of whiskey to rinse it out. Patrick took a few sips, until the taste disappeared. He looked at Pete and couldn’t help but start laughing. His tanned body was covered in dye, but part of his hair was still bright orange. He looked like sin itself. Pete’s laughed joined his and they both agreed to finish the hair dye project before resuming their making out. They laughed at the thought of showing up tomorrow at the photoshoot with dye all over them without raising any suspicions. Joe and Andy could be quite oblivious sometimes so they banked on that to work in their favour.


End file.
